


Mercury

by Bananaboye



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: In which I rant about life, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22923001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananaboye/pseuds/Bananaboye
Summary: You lay in the middle of the night, awake. And between trying to get in a comfortable position and trying to just sleep, you can't stop thinking about that cute boy from school.
Relationships: Kagamine Len & OLIVER, Kagamine Len/OLIVER
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Mercury

You lay in the middle of the night, awake. And between trying to get in a comfortable position and trying to just sleep, you can't stop thinking about that cute boy from school. Your heart's been pulsing for the last half-hour and you'd been trying to ignore that damned erection. If only he were a she—or you were a she. Then you probably won't be sleep-deprived for that Chem test tomorrow.

Oliver! Oliver. Oliver?

What's with him that attracts you so much? Why him? Why not that hot-looking out boy at school? Or a girl! Anyone would've been better.

You pushed yourself up and sat on the edge. You thought back at those moments he ignored you, or subtly tried to evade you. It seemed that only when you two were alone that he'd talk to you. . . Those moments haunted you the most.

You tried to reach for your phone, but at the last second, you decided against it.

You let yourself fall back on your bed and closed your eyes. That poignance in your heart seemed to soothe for a moment, but on the next instant it was back again. All it took was a simple draught, a shift in the atmosphere, and you were back to square one.

Suddenly, in a mess of tire, the urge became too strong and you reached for your phone again. You clicked the power button and the blue screen dazzled your eyes as you flinched. When they finally readjusted, a wall of notifications from your group chat.

Kaito 23:04  
thats so gay.

Fukase 23:07  
Like u arent

Kaito 23:08  
im not!

Fukase 23:08  
So who are you bringing to the ball?

Kaito 23:08  
Meiko, I told you this fuka,

Fukase 23:09  
Yeah ik

Kaito 23:10  
wby?

Fukase 23:10  
Secret girl ;)

Oliver 23:11  
No fair!

Kaito 23:11  
yeah

The thought of him. You felt as though you were breathing in water. You could feel the want pile up—no, the need. You had gotten close enough to Oliver to know his values, his personality—and honest-to-god while they weren't perfect, they screamed for you to love.

Len 23:13  
smh you guys  
imagine going to the ball with a date.

Kaito is typing...

Kaito 23:13  
lol, Len's still single.

Fukase 23:13  
Stop that kai kai.

Kaito 23:13  
that's.. kinda gay.

Oliver 23:14  
lol.

You looked at his profile picture. A bird, an American goldfinch. You knew 'cuz he had told you the week after you had met three years ago. Oliver had always liked birds, and you like that about him. His caring, soft side. You find that cute.

Then you look at his message again, and your heart fills with how he punctuates the end of every sentence. How he avoids 'not family-friendly' conversations. How he laughs and smiles and his face of surprise.

You can't stop.

You opened your direct messages, scanned the past messages from last month and last term and last semester. They were all awkward and short. Maybe five to ten messages long, and that's being optimistic.

You tried to type up a confession. Your heart raced as you complete your message. A short 'I love you, Oliver'. But then the daunting thought of rejection and you erased everything and hit your head on the pillow just to make sure you stayed sane—Breathing became much more difficult and heart pounded deafening ears—A sigh felt as heavy as a bathful of mercury and you could feel water starting to brim, reaching the tip of your nose, overcoming your reach.

You closed the app and opened your photos. A few dozen images of Oliver from smiling to eating to sleeping to making silly faces. Oh how you wished he were here. You tried to picture him, his golden blonde hair, so smooth, his amber eye, his iconic bandages—his slim neck—and you tried to remember that day you could see him through his uniform in summer. That pure skin, smooth. And you tried to picture him smile—or naked. Like that one day when they had a joint sports class. Oh god was he so delicious topless.

You knew this was probably a bit creepy but care's been thrown out the window. You roughly pushed your pants and boxers down and threw them off with a fling of your foot and you started stroking, slowly, to his image.

You pulled your t-shirt off and pretended it was him touching and feeling your sensitive nipples. A moan and you looked back to his smiling face on your phone. Such beautiful. Such cute. Such hot.

You threw it away and started pumping, pictured him sucking you with his hot mouth—riding you with that hot fucked-up face—or even him thrusting into you and calling you love.

The image was too much—you arched your back and climaxed, cumming three shots onto your hand, stomach, and even your chest. In the end you pictured him collapsing onto you. And you two cuddled together out of love and intimacy, whispering and caressing.

You reached for the tissue box, cleaned yourself up, and threw the tissue somewhere you could find tomorrow. Vision dazed from the climax and you felt sleepiness return. You couldn't care less that you were naked and smelt of love. You could only think about Him as you finally headed off adream.

But that prickle—never quite gone.


End file.
